


And the Winner is.

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-23
Updated: 1999-08-23
Packaged: 2018-11-10 22:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser gets mixed up with the wrong person, and he gets the scars to prove it.





	And the Winner is.

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    _Disclaimer:  None of
    the Characters in this story are mine except for the two FBI agents and 
    Corinne Blair.  The copyrighted characters belong to_ due South _and Alliance. I've divided
    this story into chapters  cuz I was bored and it was something different. 
    Enjoy!_  
    
    And the Winner Is...
    
    By:  Franklyn Wright
    
    CHAPITRE UN: Meeting the Challengers
    
            Corinne Blair dove to
    the ground just as two bullets crashed into the brick wall above her 
    head.  She crawled a few feet, then got back up and was at a sprint
    a split second later.  "Dammit,  I thought I'd lost 'em." 
    She climbed up a fire escape and jumped across a few rooftops, then 
    descended to the sidewalk the next alleyway over.  The street sign
    said Stetson Avenue.  Again at  a run, not a sprint but above
    a jog, she started down the eerily unpopulated street.  This was 
    Chicago,  shouldn't there be people out?  She'd come to Chicago
    so she could hide in the  masses... and now there were no _masses_?? 
    What a gyp.  She ran past a large building with nice  mahogany
    doors and a doorman out front.  Wait, that wasn't a doorman. 
    That was a mountie.   She stopped and backtracked.  "Wow." 
    She looked up at the six foot mountie from her lowly  5'2" stature,
    her mouth open, as he looked off, unmoving in the distance with thunderhead
    blue  eyes.  She knew he was alive, cuz he blinked... once. 
    "Pardon me if I drool on you." 
    
            He didn't respond.  Nothin'. 
    She heard her pursuers scrambling down the alley and knew  she better
    get going.  "Aw, hell."  She ran off to the mountie's right,
    her pursuers appearing and  followed her a few seconds later. 
    The commotion faded away.  Fraser continued to stand stone 
    still, though inwardly, he wondered who would be following that girl
    around, and reeking of spent  gunpowder as well.  The girl
    appeared again, approaching from the right.  She stopped in front
    of  him.  "Well, well.  You certainly are disciplined. 
    You on break soon?  You look like a cop, and  not a DC cop,
    or anything, not a Chicago cop either, and I think that's what I need,
    somebody  who can..."  She looked to her right, hearing the
    pursuers returning.  "God, they just don't quit,  do they?" 
    She ran off to Fraser's left, pursuers close at foot.  His break
    was coming up soon,   maybe he could figure out what was going
    on.  The girl appeared again, from his left.  "You get a 
    break soon?  I need to talk to you.  You can keep secrets,
    right?  'Course you can, you're  Canadian."  She stared
    for a response. "C'mon, c'mon, I can't run past here too many more times,  
    I'm gettin' kinda' tired."  At the very first strike of twelve,
    Fraser unfroze from his position.  The  girl jumped back, sucking
    in a startled breath.  "Oh, shit!" 
    
            "Oh, sorry."  Fraser
    said.  "I didn't mean to startle you." 
    
            "Sure, okay."  She gripped
    her chest.  "Just give me a sec to make sure I don't go into 
    cardiac..."  She looked back to the left, they were coming again. 
    "...arrest." She jumped up the  three stairs to the front door of
    the Consulate in a single stride. 
    
            "Oh, um, miss...?"  She
    tugged on the heavy door and found it hard to open.  Fraser came 
    up behind her and pulled open the door.  She slipped in.
    
            "Wow, this place is nice." 
    She looked around herself. 
    
            "Thank you.  Now is there
    some business you'd like to..." 
    
            "Fraser."  Inspector
    Thatcher appeared, coming down the stairs.  "Who's that?  Why
    is  she here?  You can't bring every woman who ogles you while
    on duty into the Consulate."  Fraser  cleared his throat.
    
            "I didn't intentionally bid
    her in, she came in of her own volition." 
    
            "Name's Corinne Blair, nice
    to meet you."  She held out her hand to the Inspector.  She 
    didn't take her hand.  "What's your name?"
    
            "Inspector Thatcher. 
    I'm Fraser's superior officer." 
    
            "Who's Fraser?"
    
            "That's Fraser, behind you."
    
            "Oh, yeah.  I met him, 
    and I didn't ogle him, really.  I just looked at him a good while."  
    Inspector Thatcher glared at Fraser.  "Nice place you got here,
    ma'am," Corinne said, smiling.  
    
            "Fraser, can I talk to you?" 
    Inspector Thatcher said through clenched teeth.  "In private."  
    She motioned him back to her office.  Corinne watched the attractive
    mountie disappear with his  superior officer, then she set to looking
    around the consulate.  Inside one of the many ornate and  lofty
    rooms, she saw another mountie sitting with his back to her.  She
    wandered in and jumped  up on his desk, sitting on the edge of it. 
    She took the paper he was writing on and looked at it. 
    
            "Hey!"  Turnbull said,
    "What're you doing?" 
    
            "Running from the law, what're
    you doing?"  She smiled. Turnbull looked up for the first 
    time, his face a little bit confused, though it always was.
    
            "Paperwork."  Turnbull
    stood up and took a few steps back from the desk. 
    
            "Miss Blair."  She turned
    her head.  It was Fraser.  "Turnbull." 
    
            "Good afternoon, sir. 
    I've taken the liberty of putting all of your files in this nifty manila 
    folder and placing it exactly 13 inches from the sides of the desk, and
    eight inches from the top  and bottom."  Fraser blinked at
    him.
    
            "Thank you Turnbull. 
    You can go, now." 
    
            "Yessir." He hurried away. 
    Fraser looked down at Corinne.  
    
            "You look much better, now
    that you're moving, and all," she said. 
    
            "Inspector Thatcher thinks
    it best that you leave the consulate." 
    
            "Are you crazy?  _They_ 're
    out there.  They'll kill me..."  She looked down, getting off
    the  desk and pacing a bit, wringing her hands, "well, they'll wound
    me, and drag me away, back to  DC, back _there_ ,  I don't
    wanna' go back there, I can't, you know?"  She looked up at Fraser. 
    "I  can't.  I won't, and I kept them away for this long, and
    I'm not gonna' give up now."  Fraser  squinted at her as she
    paced back and forth, wishing she would stop and clarify.  "You
    saw them." 
    
            "Actually, I didn't. 
    I couldn't focus on them, running by at such a rate.  I couldn't
    turn  my head to keep them in my field of view long enough. 
    Is there anything I can do?" 
    
            "You can let me stay here
    a little while." 
    
            "I don't know if that's feasible. 
    Inspector-" 
    
            "You do everything that lady
    says?" 
    
            "Yes.  She's my superior
    officer." 
    
            "You'd pick up her laundry,
    if she told you to?"  The look on his face told her all she 
    needed to know.  "All right, all right,  I'll talk to her myself." 
    She moved past him, out the door. 
    
            "Oh, no, I don't think that's
    a good  idea..." 
    
            "Miss Thatcher, ma'am!" 
    She called as she approached the office he'd seen her disappear 
    into with Fraser.  She walked in and Thatcher looked up, a bit surprised.  
    
            "What is this about?"
    
            "C'mon, ma'am, what's your
    first name?" 
    
            "Meg."
    
            "C'mon, Meg.  Please. 
    There are people out there who want to kill me... well, wound me, 
    anyway, and I really need a place to hide, if only for a little while. 
    I won't be a bother."  she put  up a hand as though swearing
    an oath.   "Not even a single annoying American mannerism will
    I  practice.  I'll be eloquent, speak when spoken to, and exude
    Canadian innocence and charm."   She put her hand down. 
    "I'm a writer.  I love to write.  It's what I want to do for
    the rest of my  life, and that's all I'll do.  I want to write
    about you and Fraser and Turnbull and this Consulate  and I'll make
    you immortal.  Immortal I tell you! I want to write my life, and
    now, if you let me  stay, you'll be a  part of it."
    
            "Immortal, eh?  Hmm. 
    I don't see why you can't remain for a few hours, if you must. 
    I'll  see to it you're given proper writing utensils.  Turnbull!" 
    The attentive, but slightly goofy  mountie ran into the room.
    
            "Yes ma'am?"
    
            "Make this young lady as comfortable
    as possible for her short stay with us.  See that she  gets
    everything she needs."
    
            "First thing I'll have is 
    the entire populous' awe and respect followed by world  domination." 
    She smiled.  Turnbull mouthed the word 'what?' and looked between
    her and  Thatcher.
    
            "I like this girl," 
    Thatcher said quietly. 
    
            "Never mind, Turnbull, is
    it?" 
    
            "Yes, miss..."
    
            "Blair."
    
            "Where shall we be off to?" 
    Turnbull asked her. 
    
            "Give me le grande tour," 
    Corinne said, taking Turnbull's arm and pulling him out of the 
    office.  Fraser looked in at Meg as she returned to work, and wondered
    if he was dismissed. 
    
            "Ma'am, permission to-" 
    Meg looked up. 
    
            "You're dismissed, Constable." 
    She waved her and in a shooing motion.  Fraser turned on  his
    heel and walked out of the Consulate, his mind still on the people that
    had been pursuing  Corinne, but assuming that she was in the good...
    well, adequately capable hands of Turnbull and  should be safe for
    the time being.  Besides,  Thatcher was there, and she could
    keep any situation  under control.  He went instinctively to
    the police station, though his mind had wandered and he  only realized
    where he was when he encountered the steps to the doors. 
    
            When he'd made his way to
    the back of the station, he noticed that Ray Kawalski and  Lewis
    and Huey were in the Lieutenant's office along with two people in trench
    coats.  He  assumed that, since the door was closed, it was
    a private conversation, and he tried his best to not  hear what
    they were saying.  Unfortunately, without the intention of eavesdropping,
    he could hear  snatches of the conversation, but the pieces he'd
    heard didn't make much sense when they were  put together. 
    Ray Kawalski, Lewis and Huey came out, but the trench coated deuce remained, 
    talking to Welsh.  Ray came over to Fraser.  "FBI agents trying
    to get us to do their job for them.   Good luck. Look, um,
    you ready to go out for lunch?"
    
            "Yes, Ray."
    
            "Too bad, gotta' spend my
    lunch hour working.  I'm just gonna' get something from the 
    machines."
    
            Fraser was slightly taken
    aback. "I've never known you to work through lunch, Ray.  I'm 
    quite impressed."
    
            "Yeah, well,  it won't
    happen again."  He looked up at Fraser as Fraser looked into 
    Welsh's office.  "Don't you want to know why?"
    
            Fraser looked away from Welsh's
    office and looked down at Ray.  "Yes, why?" 
    
            "I want to look busy for that
    lady in there.  I- I wanna' ask her out, you think she'd say 
    yes?"
    
            "Lady?"  Fraser asked. 
    Then one of the trench coated two turned, and Fraser saw, for the 
    first time, that one of them was a woman, the length of her hair covered
    by the upturned collar of  her coat.  "Oh, that lady."
    
            "Yeah, that lady."
    
            "She seems familiar... well,
    the smell of her is familiar, like honeysuckle, it seems.  Has she 
    been in town long?"
    
            "I don't know Fraser, I just
    met her.  What's with this smell thing?  You interested in 
    her?"  Fraser was looking into the office again.
    
            "No, not at all.  It's
    just that the olfactory sense is often the most strong and it certainly 
    forgets the least.  A person is able to remember a smell from his
    or her past much better than they  can-"
    
            "I don't care,"  
    Ray said quickly.  Fraser looked down at him as he sat down at his
    desk. 
    
            "Understood."  The two
    FBI agents came out of the office. They looked at Fraser with a 
    bit of interest.
    
            "Vecchio,  or Kawalski,
    should I say,"  The male agent named White said. 
    
            "How'd you know I'm Kawalski?"
    
            "We're the Federal Government," 
    the female named Lewis said,  "We know everything.   Who
    is this young man here?" She looked Fraser up and down once.
    
            "That's Ben Fraser of the
    RCMP, I thought you knew everything." 
    
            "He's Canadian," White said,
    "Not our concern.  But now that you mention his name, he  came
    to Chicago to track down the killers of his father, and for reasons that
    aren't really  important to people such as ourselves, he remained
    here, attached as liaison with the Canadian  Consulate, which we
    passed by earlier today.  This leads us into our next question."
    
            "Did you or did you not see
    us earlier today?" 
    
            "I'm not entirely sure. 
    If I did, you were nothing but a blur..." 
    
            "I saw you,"  Agent Lewis
    said.  White looked over at her.  "Well, I did.  He was
    standing  in front of the Consulate.  We passed by him three
    times, didn't you see him?" 
    
            "Not really.  You're
    sure it was this one?"  Fraser looked over at Ray who looked at
    him  and shrugged.
    
            "I'm quite sure.  Did
    you see me?"  She asked Fraser. 
    
            "No, not really, ma'am." 
    
            "Oh."  She looked a little
    disappointed. 
    
            "I- I'm sorry.  I don't
    remember you face-"  She really had a beautiful face.  "But
    I do  remember your scent.  It has honeysuckle undertones."
    
            "Honeysuckle mist."
    
            "Ah."
    
            "So you saw us, then." 
    
            "Yes, I suppose I did." 
    
            "And did you see the girl
    we were following?"  Agent White asked. 
    
            "I did."
    
            "And where is she?  Do
    you know?" 
    
            "Uh- Fraser,"  Ray said
    getting up, "Come with me to get some lunch.  Out."  He was
    up  and tugging on Fraser's arm.
    
            "I thought you were working
    through lunch." 
    
            "I changed my mind." 
    He pulled Fraser out of the squad room and out the door.  
    
            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
            Once at their favorite restaurant
    down the street Ray said, "That was close." 
    
            "Close to what, Ray?"
    
            "If you told her whatever
    she wanted to know, then she'd leave and I'd have no chance to 
    be with her."  Fraser blinked at his partner a few times.
    
            "That is interesting logic,
    Ray.  But isn't it a crime to withhold information from your 
    federal government?"
    
            "Meh,  they'll get over
    it."  Ray looked at the menu, though he didn't need to,  he
    always  got a potential heart attack on a sesame seed bun. 
    Fraser always got the same so as not to trouble  the waitress with
    a different order.
    
            "Hey guys.  The usual?" 
    The waitress named Suzy asked. 
    
            "Yep."  Ray and Fraser
    gave her the menus. 
    
            "Okay, comin' right up." 
    She winked at Fraser and he smiled back. 
    
            "Fraser, do you think she'd
    say yes?" 
    
            "Who?"
    
            "The Federal agent, Lewis. 
    Johanna Lewis." 
    
            "I don't know, Ray. 
    Perhaps not in this situation." 
    
            "You're right.  But she'll
    go back to DC once she finishes her job." 
    
            "Not necessarily.  This
    reminds me of a story of a young woman named Jan (yan) Huytuc  who
    traveled from town to town skinning caribou and other fur bearing animals
    for families that  did not have a member who could skillfully perform
    this task.  She was so careful and so precise  that people
    called for her from miles around."
    
            "Fraser, I love these stories,
    but could ya get to the point.  I see Suzy with our food." 
    
            "To make a long story short,
    a man named Xanadu, who had hurt his hand in a fishing  accident,
    had called on her for help, and he fell in love with her and asked her
    to stay.  But-" 
    
    "Fraser, you know I don't like these 'buts' of yours."
    
    "I know Ray, but she refused, though she felt the same towards Xanadu,
    because she so loved her  freedom to roam and she loved her work. 
    She simply couldn't give it up for him."   
    
    After a few moments of silence, during which Ray stared, mouth slightly
    open, at the mountie,  Ray said, "What the hell kinda' story was
    that?!  What's the point?" 
    
            "Well, if Xanadu had given
    her a reason to stay, she would have."  Ray blinked at him and 
    shook his head.
    
            "You're a freak."  Suzy
    placed the food in front of the gentlemen. 
    
            "There you go, guys. 
    And, for the mountie, it's on me."  She winked at him again. 
    
            "Thank you, kindly," 
    Fraser said and smiled. 
    
    CHAPITRE DEUX: Flirting with Disaster
    
            Corinne scribbled feverishly
    in the notebook that Turnbull had gotten for her.  He stood a 
    few feet behind her waiting to get anything else she needed if she asked. 
    She could feel him  peeking over her shoulder.  "Can you...
    get me some water?"
    
            "Sure."  He quickly disappeared. 
    Corinne thought that, though Turnbull was a little  strange and
    a bit too talkative, he was cute in his own way... like a puppy that
    gets so excited  when his owner comes home that he slides on the
    linoleum into a wall. She threw her pencil down  and stretched and
    yawned.
    
            "This place is so great," 
    She said to herself,  "quite conducive to the creative process."
    
            "Your water."  He set
    down the glass on a coaster on the oak table.  "Be sure you always 
    use the coaster."
    
            "Yeah, I hear those water
    rings are killer,"  she said distractedly as she was reading over 
    what she had just written down.  "No, no, this paragraph sucks."
    
            "Can I help you at all?" 
    Turnbull asked. 
    
            "No, no, I just gotta' rewrite
    this."  She frowned, still reading over the passage.  She 
    stretched out her hand and felt around the table for her pencil. She
    glanced up a split second to  see it was about a hands length out
    of reach.  Back to reading, she willed the pencil to her  fingertips,
    and it slid to her and she picked it up.
    
            "H-how'd you do that?" 
    Corrine frowned and tore her eyes away from the page long  enough
    to glance up at Turnbull's again confused face.
    
            "What?"  She was genuinely
    unaware of what he was talking about.  She twirled the pencil 
    between her index and middle fingers.
    
            "The pencil.  How'd you
    move it..." 
    
            "Ooooh," she said, not remember
    the act, but realizing what must've happened.  "Okay, I  think
    it's time I be going now."
    
            "Wait-"   
    
            "Bye, Turnbull, tell Fraser
    I had to leave."  She stood up and walked out of the room and 
    out the front door of the Consulate.  Corinne moved cautiously out
    of the doors and looked all  ways before she proceeded out into
    the open.  No sign of any 'coats,' that's what she called them 
    all, all those people who came after her time and time again.  They
    all wore trench coats at one  time or another, so the name seemed
    apt.  Where would she go now? Corinne wracked her brain,  and
    decided it would be best if she just laid low, and there's no place lower
    than beneath the  streets.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
              Ray and Fraser
    returned to the police station, but the FBI agents had left.  "I
    have to get  back to the Consulate, Ray."
    
            "All right. See you later." 
    Fraser walked back to the Consulate wondering if miss Blair  would
    still be there.  As he mounted the steps to the front door, he was
    overcome by a hot and  sticky feeling, highly unpleasant. 
    He could feel the humidity on his skin despite the cold crisp day 
    around him.
    
            "Fraser,"  Thatcher had
    her head sticking out of her office window. "Fraser!" she said 
    more loudly to jolt him out of his daydreaming.
    
            "Yessir?" 
    
            "Get in here."
    
            "Yessir."  He shook off
    the humid feeling and went into the Consulate and straight to  Inspector
    Thatcher's desk.
    
            "Fraser, she's gone."
    
            "Gone, sir?"
    
            "Yes, Corinne Blair left,
    Turnbull was watching her and he said she just got away from  him. 
    I want you to go find her.  She told Turnbull she was on the run
    from the law and I don't  want any kind of incident to arise from
    this if the Americans find out we had her and let her go."  
    It was as he had suspected.
    
            "Yessir."
    
            "So, you've got your new assignment. 
    Dismissed,"  Thatcher said, no longer looking up  at him, but
    looking back down at her work. He looked so good when he was taking orders, 
    standing at attention like that and listening so intently.  "Keep
    me appraised of the situation,  Constable."
    
            "Yessir,"  Fraser said,
    turning on his heel and exiting her office as quickly as he could. 
    He  walked down the hall to find Turnbull sitting in his office,
    engrossed in the act of staring at a  pencil.  He turned the
    writing utensil over and over in his hands, inspecting every angle.  
    "Turnbull?"  The younger mountie jumped up and stood at attention.
    
            "Yessir."
    
            "What're you doing?"
    
            "Um, nothing, sir."
    
            "You were the last to see
    Miss Blair?" 
    
            "Yes."
    
            "Did she say where she was
    going?" 
    
            "No, she just left. She said
    to tell you she had to leave, sir.  I- I didn't get a chance to
    ask  her where she was going."
    
            "So you have nothing that
    will help me find her." 
    
            "No, sir.  Sorry sir." 
    
            "That's all right.  Guess
    it's square one for me." 
    
            "Perhaps your friend on the
    police force can help you." 
    
            "Thank you, Turnbull." 
    Fraser returned to his own office and sat down, trying to build 
    Corinne's face in his mind.  He'd only seen her for a few minutes,
    but he knew he could remember  it if he tried.  Fraser pulled
    open the top desk drawer and extracted one perfectly sharpened pencil 
    and a blank sheet of unlined paper.  He began to sketch out a picture
    of her. 
    
            After work,  Fraser went
    out on the streets asking people for their help, showing her  picture. 
    There was no luck and Fraser went home empty handed.  He opened
    the door to his  apartment, immediately tired.  Diefenbaker
    came over to him and licked at his fingertips in  greeting. 
    "Hey, Dief."  He bent down and pat his head.  He looked out
    the window to see lake  Michigan on the horizon, and the last of
    the glowing red sun sinking behind it.  That large glowing 
    ball left a trail of crimson on the twinkling surface of the water. 
    "Dief, have you seen a girl that  looks like this?"  He held
    the paper down where the wolf could see it.  Diefenbaker mewled.  
    "Now I know you leave this apartment whenever you please."  The
    dog whimpered and looked  away from Fraser.  "You like me to
    think that you stay here and honor my wishes, but I know you  don't." 
    Diefenbaker looked back up at him.  "All right, Dief, all right. 
    I'm just asking if you've  seen her... if only from up here, looking
    down on the streets."  The wolf looked again at the  picture
    and made a low sound in his throat.  "Okay.  I'll ask around
    more tomorrow."  Fraser  removed his Stetson and his coat and
    tunic. "Dief, can you get your own dinner tonight?  I'm so 
    tired,"  Fraser said lying down on his bed, not trying to fight
    the aching fatigue that had nestled  into his body and letting his
    leadening eyelids fall closed.
    
            Fraser's dreams were 
    troubled and his sleep fitful.  There were many colors, but a 
    pervading blue throughout.  His body felt hot and cold all at once,
    and there was something  uncomfortable wrapped about him, that same
    humid stickiness he'd felt outside the Consulate.   He could
    feel the cold air blowing in from the window he always kept propped open,
    but it did  little to offset the oppressive humidity around him. 
    And then, there was Victoria, telling him  everything was okay,
    he should come to see her and they would live happily ever after, and
    he felt  himself want to be happy, but he knew the sadness and bitterness
    that was wrapped up with her.   He was also, for the first
    time, painfully aware that he was dreaming, but couldn't rouse himself.  
    He was quite uncomfortable in Victoria's dreamscape embrace.  
    
            Corinne crept up the fire
    escape to the apartment she'd seen the mountie disappear into  during
    daylight.  She'd waited until the wee hours, when the streets were
    virtually deserted, to  come from the shadows and make a break across
    the street to the apartment building.  His  window was propped
    open making it a bit simpler for her.  She slipped in through the
    open  window without moving it at all and then she was standing
    above him.  Not a sound had she  made, she'd become good at
    this over the years.  Corinne just watched him sleep for a few 
    minutes.  His brow was creased in worry or distress.  Perhaps
    a nightmare.  He really was  exceptionally beautiful, even
    with his eyes shut.  The eyes were the first thing that got her,
    bluish- gray and clear and... _unexpected_.  They seemed like
    they'd be easy to read, but proved a little  difficult to decipher. 
    She moved closer to him so her shadow fell across his face, beginning
    to  wake him.  Before he could come completely into consciousness
    she sat down on the edge of his  bed and placed her hand over his
    mouth.  Fraser's eyes flicked open.  Corinne touched her lips 
    with her index finger.  "Ssh."  Fraser nodded and she removed
    her hand.  "Hi, Fraser,"  she  whispered.
    
            "Miss Blair," he replied,
    quite surprised that she had gotten into his apartment without 
    waking him.  He looked down at Diefenbaker, still sleeping at the
    foot of the bed. 
    
            "Your dog's fine."
    
            "He's a wolf, actually." 
    She slid away from Fraser a moment to run a hand through the  fur
    on the wolf's head.  Dief stretched and shifted in position so he
    could see who was petting  him.  He looked at her and made
    a sound deep in his throat, not far from a sound of acquiescence, 
    and closed his eyes again to sleep.
    
            "Cute."  She sat back
    on the bed next to Fraser, who was still reclining. 
    
            "Odd behavior."
    
            "I'm used to dogs.  Maybe
    he's not worried cuz I'm not worried." 
    
            "Could be.  How did you
    find me?" 
    
            "I followed you today." 
    
            "I'll have to tell the FBI
    I saw you." 
    
            Corinne frowned down at him. 
    "You always do your job, don't you?  No matter what?" 
    
            "Sadly enough, yes."
    
            "Why sadly enough?"
    
            "A long story."  
    
    Corinne looked deep into his eyes, colorless in the moonlight. 
    "It's that woman, isn't it?  The one  with long curly dark
    hair.  Her name begins with a V... Veronica?" 
    
    "No, no, Victoria.  But how'd you know that?"
    
    "Yes, yes, now we get to the heart of the matter."  She stood up. 
    "That's why they're coming,  Fraser, that's exactly why." 
    She paced.  "I don't want to be someone's lab rat.  I can't
    get rid of  them though.  I can't shake 'em.  You'd think
    that damned government would have more  important things to do than
    to follow me around."  She stopped pacing and sat back down on the 
    edge of the bed.  "I've been looking over my shoulder for five years
    straight.  I haven't spent  more than a week at home for four
    of them. I'm at a loss,  Fraser, I'm at an utter loss for words, 
    me at a loss for words.  It's odd."
    
    "Are you normally quite verbose?"
    
    "I write.  I can't even write a thing.  I can usually write
    what I feel, but I don't feel anything right  now.  I'm numb. 
    Have you ever been numb inside?"  
    
    Fraser looked away from Corinne, out the window at the low hanging moon.
    "I have." 
    
    "I haven't slept," her voice quavered, "for three days, and not soundly
    since I can remember.  I  can't think, I can hardly eat, they've
    got my nerves frayed, I can't even hold my hands steady."  
    She held out a hand for Fraser to see.
    
    "I- I'm sorry."
    
    "'I'm sorry'.  You're _sorry_?  You can't be sorry because
    you didn't do anything except make me  feel warm and okay for the
    first time in a long time.  At the risk of being cliché and
    corny, you're  my palpable sunshine."  She stretched out next
    to Fraser on the small amount of mattress she  could snag without
    forcing him to move and lay her head on his chest.   
    
    "Well- why me?"
    
    "I saw you, and I knew."  She had her eyes shut now.  Fraser
    didn't know exactly what to do with  her, he wasn't exactly suited
    to deal with teenagers.  Children were a different thing, easier
    to  handle.  But teenagers... only God knows how to deal with
    them.  He pat her on the shoulder and  got used to the weight
    of her head on his chest. After a while, he found the pressure and warmth 
    soothing.  Her deep rhythmic breathing indicated that she was asleep
    and soon he joined her, his  dreams now light and forgettable.
    
    Fraser awoke as twilight was beginning to fade from the washed out gray
    into purples and the  beginning of dawn.  Corinne hadn't moved. 
    Fraser stretched out his hand to his Tunic, which lay  out on the
    chest from last night.  He removed the handcuffs from the compartment
    on the front,  careful not to wake his guest, and snapped one cuff
    on his left wrist, the other cuff on her right.   He hated
    to do it, but he knew he had to.  The absence of the street noise
    this early in the morning  lulled him back to sleep.
    
    Diefenbaker licked Fraser's face as the sun of morning spilled in through
    the open window.   Corinne was gone, vanished like a shadow. 
    The single cuff was still on him, so he knew he hadn't  dreamed
    the action, but the other cuff dangled, empty.  There was a note
    on the kitchen table.   Fraser got up, stretched, and went
    to the table to read the note. 
    
                           
    _Fraser,  
    
    Thank you for letting me stay at your place for a while,  it's really
    very nice.  A bare home  indicates a fullness of heart and
    spirit.  It's good for the soul. I fed your wolf, so don't feed
    him  again, he'll get fat.  About the handcuffs, I don't approve
    of that at all, but they all have simple  locks, it wasn't difficult
    to disengage them. I hope this note finds you well, and not too 
    disappointed.  I'll see you another day.
    
    Sincerely,
    
    Corinne Addams-Blair_ "Well, Dief, looks like we have an escape artist on our hands." 
    The wolf looked expectantly up at  him.  "She told me she fed
    you already.  You aren't getting anything extra."  Diefenbaker
    let out a  loud expellation of breath and padded over to the foot
    of the bed and lie down. "And don't pout,  you're a wolf, for God's
    sake.  If you're hungry, go forage for food."   Fraser
    looked up at the  ceiling and shook his head. "Ingrate."
    
    CHAPITRE TROIS: Facing the Consequences
    
    "Have you made any headway in your current project?"  Thatcher
    asked. 
    
    Fraser looked away from her a moment "I- um- no, no sir."
    
    "And why not?"
    
    "I think that she is a person who will show herself when she wants to,
    and no time sooner." 
    
    "Uh huh."  She looked Fraser square in the eye and just waited.
    "I saw her last night, sir." 
    
    "And you didn't detain her?"
    
    "She got away from me, sir.  I don't know how she did it, really."
    
    "Let's hope that the next time you see her you'll have better luck."
    
    "Yessir, I'm sure I will."  
    
    Fraser called Ray to ask if any leads had come in over there.  "No,
    not a one, Agent Lewis is here,  though... and her partner, Agent
    whatever-"
    
    "Agent White."
    
    "Yeah.  Have you seen her, got anything?"
    
    "I saw her last night, Ray.  But she got away from me."
    
    "You?"
    
    "Yes,  I'm mystified as to how it happened, myself."
    
    "I guess I'll let you get back to work,"  Ray said as Lewis approached
    his desk. 
    
    "Oh, okay-"
    
    "Bye Fras." 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "And I took this bullet in my side, went right through."  Ray said
    looking up at Agent Lewis as  she leaned back on his desk, looking
    at him, seeing his lips move, but not really hearing a word he 
    said.  "I lost a lot of blood, though, nothing too serious, two
    sets of stitches.  You wanna' see?"   He gripped the bottom
    of his shirt ready to pull it up.
    
    "Uh, no, no."  Agent Lewis said quickly, holding out a hand to stop
    him while averting her pale  green eyes.  "That- that's okay. 
    So, um, when's your partner gonna' get here?" 
    
    "The Mountie?"
    
    "Mm hmm." She nodded.
    
    Ray looked at his watch.  "Soon, he's always on time, about 12:15." 
    Agent Lewis looked at her  own watch, 12:09.  She looked away
    from Ray.
    
    "White."  Her partner turned around. "I'm getting some coffee, you
    want a cup?"  He shook his  head.
    
    "I could go for some."  Ray said.  Agent Lewis rolled her eyes
    as she stood up to exit the squad  room.  
    
    Francesca crossed paths with White as she was walking for the doors to
    the squad room.  She  was on her way to Welsh's office and
    when she passed Ray's desk she said, "Way out of your  league, Ray."
    
    He scowled at her. "Thanks, Franny."
    
    Fraser walked in through the squad room doors and went straight to Ray's
    desk.  "What is it the  FBI wants her for?"
    
    "Hello to you too."
    
    "I'm sorry, Ray.  Thatcher-"
    
    "The dragon lady."  Ray shuddered. "She's tough."
    
    "Yes, well, she's been pushing me to find the whereabouts of the young
    lady, and I think it would  behoove me to know all the facts of
    this case to which I am devoting my full and undivided  attention."
    
    "It would _behoove_ you?"
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    "Constable."  Lewis had returned with two cups of coffee. 
    Ray stretched out his hand for his.   "Would you like a cup
    of coffee?"  She offered him one styrofoam container. 
    
    "Uh, no.  I don't drink coffee, thank you."  Agent Lewis set
    the cup down on Ray's desk.  "But  perhaps you can help me. 
    What is it that the young lady is wanted by the Federal government 
    for?"
    
    "I can't tell you that, Constable.  You know, unless..."  She
    leaned back on the edge of Ray's  desk and removed the clip that
    held her hair back.  Her blonde hair fell forward in a floral scented 
    wave and rested on her shoulders. "Unless you drag it out of me." 
    Ray smiled, getting the  message before the perplexed Fraser even
    got a hint. Fraser shook his head slightly, accentuating  his utter
    befuddlement.
    
    "I'm not sure I follow."
    
    "Oh, you know, two officers of the law-"  She looked up at him,
    "sharing information, ideas,"   She stood up and leaned in
    close to him. "A hotel room-"  Ray laughed silently into his cup
    of  coffee.
    
    "Oh, I-"  Fraser cleared his throat beginning to blush. "I just, 
    just the information."  Lewis  cocked her head to the side.
    "Please."  He added.
    
    "She's an asset.  There's nothing she's done, just an asset." 
    She whispered.  "We offered to take  her quietly, but she's
    not complied.  Now we're forced to put civilians on watch, and shoot
    to  incapacitate."
    
    "You told the public?"
    
    "Yes."  She leaned back from him and reclined on the desk. "She
    often hides in crowds.  If the  crowds know what she looks
    like, then we have a better chance of getting her back." 
    
    "Whoa, you gave her identity to the public?"  Ray demanded.
    
    "Yes-"
    
    "Well, for Christ fucking _sake_!  C'mon, Fraser, we better
    find her before anyone else does." 
    
    In the car Ray was close to furious.  "Can you believe they released
    a photo of her?" 
    
    "I don't believe they had a photo."
    
    "They, did, a file photo of her presenting her wrist band.  Like
    some juvenile delinquent." 
    
    "She isn't a delinquent, Ray.  I think she has an ability far beyond
    what either of us have." 
    
    "Like what?  Her ability to disappear into thin air?  I've
    never known you to lose anyone." 
    
    "I'm not sure, Ray."
    
    "Well, she's got to eat. And she doesn't have any money, does she?" 
    
    "No, I don't think so."
    
    "So we ask around soup kitchens and show her picture.  Someone got
    to have seen her." 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "You seen a kid, looked like this?" Ray held up her picture.
    
    "No, man, sorry.  I saw another guy, came around, looking for her
    too.  He was dressed up, in a  suit, he was packin'."
    
    "He pull a gun on you?"
    
    "Hey, man.  I know when someone's strapped _before_ they pull
    the gun on me.  He didn't exactly  seem the uh, reputable type." 
    The man put down his ladle and looked both ways and motioned  Ray
    and Fraser in to hear a secret.  "Maybe mob related.  You didn't
    hear it from me."  Ray  looked at Fraser.
    
    "Let's not jump to conclusions,"  Fraser whispered to Ray.
    
    "Is there a huge reward up for her?"  The man behind the counter
    asked them.  "What'd she do?" 
    
    "Nothing, sir, thank you, kindly for your time,"  Fraser said and
    smiled. 
    
    "Sure."  The gentleman went back to the kitchen to replace the now
    empty vat of chili.   "Recommend us to your friends," he said
    sarcastically as he disappeared. 
    
    "Well, Fraser, it's gettin' dark and I only know one more kitchen within
    walking distance of the  station. You think we should ask the drop
    in shelters if they saw her last night?" 
    
    "I- uh, I don't think she stayed at a drop in shelter."
    
    "Why not?  You think she'd sleep out in the streets?"
    
    "No-"  Ray looked over at him, away from the road for a second.
    
    "Yeees?"
    
    "She slept in my apartment last night."
    
    "What?"
    
    "She snuck in and stayed.  I cuffed her, but when I woke up, she
    was gone." 
    
    "She got out of handcuffs?"
    
    "Yes. She made me feel at ease, it lulled me to sleep.  I should
    have stayed awake."  He fingered  the brim of his Stetson,
    which was placed habitually on the dashboard. "I should have stayed 
    alert."
    
    "How do you know she wasn't taken?"
    
    "I would have been awakened, and she left me a note."
    
    "A note."
    
    "I know she's all right, at least she was when she left, so someone should
    have seen her today.   She was on foot."
    
    "We'll keep asking."
    
    The last soup kitchen hadn't seen her either, and yet another day of
    maddening stalemate came to  a close.  Ray drove slowly down
    West Racine, tired out by the unproductive day, more than he  usually
    was by an eventful one.  "All right, Fraser, you're home." 
    He was silent, staring straight  ahead, not very aware of his surroundings. 
    "This has really got you off your game, hunh?" 
    
    Fraser looked over at him.  "I'm troubled by it, yes."
    
    "You're great for feeling an overwhelming sense of duty where it isn't
    due.  Just go home, get  some sleep, and we'll find her tomorrow."
    He looked up at his apartment and felt the bad feelings  
    
    of last night rolling off of it.  Victoria, Victoria, why, why,
    why?  He'd been dreaming of her a lot  lately, for some unseen,
    God forsaken reason, and it was starting to unravel him.  Living
    through  it once was bad enough without having to relive it in his
    sleep, his one escape. He opened the car  door as snowflakes began
    to sprinkle from broken clouds in the sky, an odd condition for snow.  
    He looked up.
    
    "Perfect, just stab me in the heart, would you?"  He mumbled to
    himself. 
    
    "What, Fras?"
    
    "Nothing , Ray.  Goodnight."  
    
    Fraser removed his Tunic and white shirt underneath, leaving on his uniform
    pants and an  undershirt, then made Diefenbaker his dinner. 
    Fraser wasn't hungry himself and after a night of  little uninterrupted
    sleep last night, he crashed early.  Restless sleep again plagued
    him.  Victoria  beckoned him, and his heart was torn in two
    with wanting to be with her and the fear of being  with her.  
    
    Corinne again watched Fraser sleeping, knowing that she was playing hopscotch
    on the crumbling  edge of ruin.  He was ready to take her in
    in the blink of an eye, and here she was, back again.  He 
    was wearing a sleeveless undershirt and the covers were pulled up to
    around his belly button, and  he was dreaming again, a bad dream.
    
    His whole experience with her played, with him as a bystander, looking
    in and asking how he  could have been so gullible.  He was
    normally so lucid, but she had draped a thick veil over his  face.
    A veil scented with flowers and was very warm, very comfortable, something
    he needed and  simply didn't have.  He was destined to be alone,
    he was acutely aware of that.  The explosion of  pain from
    the gunshot in the train station mixed with a feeling guilt for making
    Ray Vecchio feel  guilty for it jolted him.
    
    Corinne touched his bare shoulder and he jolted out of sleep in a cold
    sweat.  He gripped his  heart, catching his breath.  "I
    suppose now we're even,"  he whispered. 
    
    "What?"
    
    "When we first met-"
    
    "Oh, right." She smiled down at him. "I guess I should stop doing this,
    hunh?" 
    
    " _Why_ do you keep doing this?"  He sat up and swung his legs
    over the edge of the bed and leaned  over, his elbows on his knees,
    and covered his face.
    
    "What's wrong?"  She sat down next to him and touched him lightly
    on the shoulder again.  "It's  that Victoria chick, isn't it?" 
    He still had his face covered.  "Tell me about it?" 
    
    His gray eyes shifted to her face in the moonlight. He chuckled. "I don't
    think so."  His voice was  a bit weak, like that ball of emotion
    was stuck in his throat.
    
    "You know, they say that hindsight is almost always 20/20, but when hindsight
    isn't an option,  next best thing's the eyes of a child."  
    
    "I don't even know you."
    
    "I'm all you've got."  She shrugged.  Fraser realized that
    one way or another, he had to unload his  feelings, or he would
    break down.  Ray could see sometimes that he was preoccupied, sad,
    and  reserved.  He'd ask, and Fraser would always say that
    he was fine.  It was just the way he was, he  didn't want to
    burden other people with his personal battles.
    
    "Corinne, it's a long story."  He sounded wary.
    
    "I've got time."  After a long hesitation, and a bit more cajoling,
    Fraser began at the beginning,  when he chased her to a crag in
    a mountain, where they stayed while a storm broke over them. He 
    began his story at 1:00 and, with Fraser and all of his intricate detail,
    it was almost 4:00 when he  finished.  His voice was hoarse
    and Corinne had to lean close to him to hear. 
    
    "Good God,"  Corinne said when he finished, "she put you through
    all that, and you wanted to go  with her??"
    
    "Sometimes I still do." 
    
    Corinne shook her head. "I don't understand you.  Usually, if I
    can understand,  I can decipher.   But you-"  she
    stood up, "you take the cake.  You trouble me, and I trouble you,
    I know that."   Fraser watched her from his seat on the bed.
    "I need to understand. I need rhyme and reason on  this one. I don't
    usually like rhyme and reason, but here..."
    
    "I can't explain."  Fraser said.  "I loved her, I loved her
    then, but I don't love her now.  Still, I  have this hole in
    my soul, it feels like only she can fill."
    
    "Only because you've never let anyone else in the way you let her in. 
    Relationships that begin in   intense drama, often end in intense
    drama.  Fraser, you can do better.  You could fall ass 
    backwards into a better relationship than that.  I don't wanna'
    yell at you, you're too cute to yell  at, but _God_." 
    She sat back down next to him and his eyes looked haunted and tired. 
    She sighed.   "Tell you what.  You told me that, 
    I'll tell you something about me." 
    
    "No, you don't have to do that."
    
    "Well, Fraser, I'm putting a big hand full of trust in you right now. 
    I'm gonna' show you why the  FBI is after me.  Just sit there,
    and watch."  She stepped back away from him and picked up the 
    note she had left on his table the night before.  She crumpled it
    up and held it in her open palm.   "Watch."  The paper
    levitated above her outstretched palm and hung there.  "Small scale,
    but it's  the basic idea.  And the Victoria thing... I get
    impressions from people, I draw my conclusion  about how they're
    thinking from symbols that form in my mind."  She blew on the paper
    ball to  cause it to spin.  Fraser stood up and walked over
    to Corinne, eyes on the spinning object.  He  passed his hands
    between her hand and the paper. "It'll keep spinning, too.  No friction."
    
    "Phenomenal,"  Fraser whispered.
    
    "You know the cuffs?"  Fraser looked up at her.
    
    "Yes?"
    
    "I know the lock, the mechanism, I mean.  If I know the mechanism,
    I can guide it open." 
    
    "How... did you acquire this somehow?"  Fraser plucked the ball
    of paper out of the air. 
    
    "It's just come easily to me, since I can remember.  I just learned
    how to keep them under control,  the older I got.  They, the
    FBI, put me in this research lab place when I was very young.  My 
    mom died, and my dad needed money, so the lab paid him for my presence
    there.  I busted out the  first time when I was about ten,
    and went home.  My dad wasn't there, he'd run off with the 
    money, but my sister took care of me.  FBI came and dragged me back
    till I was thirteen, then a  broke out for good.  Here I am. 
    Eighteen and five years free." 
    
    "They took you against your will?"
    
            "Well, when I was a minor,
    my father signed my life away.  It's legally binding; where the 
    law meets justice and says 'see ya'."  Corinne went back over to
    the bed and sat down facing the  window, staring into the darkness
    beyond.  "And just because I can walk up to the president and 
    see if he's lying or not, I'm some sort of threat to national security,
    so I must now be kept in a  little white box where people watch
    me all the time.  Does that seem fair?"   
    
    Fraser sat next to her, looking out at the night.  "No, it doesn't. 
    But then, whoever said that life  would be fair?"  Corinne
    sighed and put her chin on Fraser's shoulder.  He smelled like ivory 
    soap, a very nice smell.  He still looked out in the night.
    
    "You and I are a little alike.  We don't get a lot of time for relationships
    in our 'jobs,'  but you at  least have your partner."
    
    "Yes, Ray Vecchio."
    
    "Yeees,  'Vecchio'."  She said obviously humoring him. 
    Fraser smiled in spite of himself.  He  perked up and sat stiffly
    a moment.
    
    "Wait-" he whispered.
    
    "What?"
    
    "Three people have just entered the building."
    
    "That's three floors down!"
    
    "Ssh,"  He lifted his hand for her to stop talking. "They're armed."
    
    "Oh, shit."  Corinne said jumping up.
    
    Fraser looked at her, then over at his tunic.  Corinne held out
    her wrists to him.  "Do what you  gotta'."
    
    "Run,"  He said softly.
    
    "What?"
    
    "Run, if you don't see me come out of the apartment, go to Ray's apartment,
    or to the police."   Fraser got up and pulled on his uniform
    shirt, since it was closest and grabbed his leather coat as  she
    disappeared out through the open window.  Diefenbaker followed her. 
    Corinne ran through  an alleyway and hid in the shadows, her limbs
    shaking, she was embarrassed to admit it, even to  herself, that
    she was scared.  She held Diefenbaker around the neck and shivered
    in the cold night,  waiting for a solace that always seemed to evade
    her.
    
     CHAPITRE QUATRE: And the Fear Turned Flesh
    
    The door the Fraser's apartment burst open and one of the very large
    men was on top of him an  instant later.  The thug knocked
    him backwards, but Fraser kept his footing. He backed towards  the
    window, ready to make a break for it. "I wouldn't do that, mountie. 
    Got two more just  waiting down there."  Fraser looked down
    the fire escape, and there were two more of them,  looking up at
    him.  When he turned his eyes back to the three in his apartment,
    he was looking  down the barrel of a .45.  Fraser put his hands
    up in surrender. 
    
    "Come quietly?"  Fraser nodded and walked forward with the cold
    metal digging into his spine.   "Take off the coat." 
    Fraser slowly unzipped the coat, and as he began to pull it off, he threw
    it  over the head of the one behind him, and broke for the hallway,
    rolling right and out of the line of  fire.  Bullets exploded
    into the floor just to his left. He slid his back along the hallway until
    the  firing stopped, then he ran for the stairs.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Dief, what'll I do?"  She talked to the wolf as snow fell down
    on her.  She knew she could hide  in the shadows for as long
    as she needed to, her skin helped her disappear into darkness. 
    Dark  likes dark, like attracts like.  "Look!"  Fraser
    appeared across the street, coming out of the  building.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "We'll get him."  They saw him run behind the building and were
    in quick pursuit. Fraser rounded  the corner and slid to a stop
    in front of two gun toting thugs that had come around the other side 
    of the building.  He put his hands up as the other three came up
    behind him. "Gentlemen, I'm sure  we can come to a peaceful understanding." 
    One of the men grabbed his arms from behind and  held them tightly
    behind his back.  They forced him into a car that was parked in
    the alleyway, and  sped off.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    Corinne followed the car, trying her best to keep it in sight, but she
    got tired too quickly, and the  car was moving too fast.  "Dief,
    follow the car.  When you know where it is, come and get me, 
    I'll be near Ray's apartment, okay?"  The wolf ran off. "To the
    police," she whispered to herself.  "Like turning myself in." 
    She sighed and started across town to Ray's apartment, she'd been 
    spying on him as well.  When she got there, she pounded on the door. 
    "Ray, Stan, whatever, I  need to talk to you!" She called through
    to him.  He opened the door in boxers and a bare upper  body. 
    "You look totally different up close."
    
    "What d'you want?"
    
    "Fraser.  He's in trouble, some guys took him."
    
    His eyes half closed in sleep tried to focus on her. "Who _are_
    you?" 
    
    "I'm Corinne Blair. Now do your job and go to the station, put 'em on
    alert." 
    
    "Whoa, you're _the_ Corinne Blair?"  He leaned in the doorway.
    
    "Hello,  are you daft?!  Fraser's been kidnapped!  Big
    mob guys, I swear it was the mob." 
    
    "O-okay."  Ray hurried into his apartment and pulled on a shirt
    and pants, and shoulder holster.   "Dammit all if Fraser doesn't
    get into more trouble."
    
    "Hey!  Tell them to wait for a call, or the wolf!"  Corinne
    called in to him.  She couldn't see him,  but she knew he could
    hear her.
    
    "Call? From who?"  Ray came out to the door but she was gone. 
    "Dammit," he mumbled, pulling  on shoes and running out of the apartment
    to his car, and speeding to the station. 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Stand up."  Fraser got out of the car and stood still.  He
    was in a warehouse, boxes lined the  walls and the ceiling had the
    metal supports visible.  Wearing only his white long sleeved shirt, 
    after being told to take off his coat, he was cold, and the warehouse
    was no warmer than the night  outside. In fact, it seemed colder. 
    His breath streamed out in puffs and his eyes rested on the far 
    windows, where he could see snow falling outside.  One of the thugs
    pat him down and found his  throwing knife.  "He's clean, Boss." 
    A man in a gray fedora and a matching trench coat walked  out of
    the shadows.  He was young, younger than two of the men he had working
    for him, maybe  even younger than Fraser, but probably about the
    same age.  He flicked away his cigarette and  glowered at the
    mountie.
    
    "We can get this done now, or things can get ugly,"  he said to
    Fraser as he walked up to about  nose to nose with him. His breath
    reeked of the tobacco he had just extinguished. Fraser tugged at 
    the rope that bound his wrists together behind him. "Where is she?" 
    
    "She?"
    
    "The little black girl, the one the FBI wants?  I saw her with you. 
    I know she's come to you  before," he gripped Fraser's shirt, "where
    is she?"   Fraser knew that she was either at or near 
    Ray's apartment, or at the police station, somewhere he would know well
    so he could find her if  he was all right.  He knew she didn't
    think he was all right. 
    
    "I don't know where she is."
    
    "Liar!"  He yelled, then pointed an accusing finger at him. "Don't
    you lie to me."  Fraser merely  blinked at him, calm and stony
    faced as usual.  "Lou, take over, I have other things to do. 
    You  know the plan, see that it comes through."
    
    "Yes, sir."  The young man in the fedora walked out of the warehouse. 
    Lou was one of the  younger men with eyes the color of tar and hair
    to match, slicked back and greasy.  He had sharp  features,
    too sharp, all corners and straight lines.  There was no softness
    about him and Fraser  dreaded whatever he would next.  "All
    right, mountie.  I'm not a talker, you see, I'm a much more 
    physical person."  His breath smelled of cigarettes and coffee. 
    "You wanna' save yourself some  trouble, start talking."
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    Diefenbaker followed the trail to the warehouse, and nudged open a ventilation
    grating and  crawled in enough to see Fraser there with five other
    men. Another sturdy grating kept him from  getting into the warehouse,
    so Dief wiggled his way out of the shaft to return to Corinne as she 
    had told him to do.  Diefenbaker had no idea how Fraser got himself
    into so much trouble.  Just  doing good deeds, he assumed. 
    But good deeds sure seemed to come at a price in this concrete 
    wilderness.  Things sure were simpler back home, but a lot less
    interesting. 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Where is she?"
    
    "What for?"
    
    "We get her, we ransom her for a helluva lotta money.  FBI wants
    her, she's worth a lot, worth  more because they'll pay to keep
    her under wraps.  We've got some interesting info about this 
    little girl.  Well, little, I suppose.  She is 18, technically
    an adult-"  He shook his head and  discounted his digression. 
    "Now, for the question of the night, where can we find her?" 
    
    "I don't know."
    
    "Now- now you and I both know that you're lying to me.  Want to
    try again?"  Lou turned his  back to Fraser and walked away
    a few steps.
    
    "I can't tell you."  He turned and looked at Fraser.
    
    "Progress.  Now you know, you just won't say.  Easily resolved." 
    Lou knocked him hard in left  jaw.  Fraser stumbled a little
    with the blow.  "Now, where is she?"  Fraser found it impossible
    to  move or feel his jaw and he tasted blood in his mouth. "Aww," 
    Lou tisked, "is it out of socket?   Let me see."  One
    of the other men pulled Fraser's head up by the hair and Lou inspected
    his  handiwork. "Hold still-"  as if he could move.  Lou
    rested a hand against Fraser's temple, then  gripped Fraser's lower
    jaw and it wrenched left. With an audible pop, his jaw was back into 
    alignment and hurt so badly his eyes clouded over and his knees went
    out a moment.  Two  gentlemen, one on each arm, held him up.
    
    "Garret, make a call.  Tell them we got the mountie."
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Hey Dief."  The wolf growled and whimpered at her.  "We should
    get there, then."  Corinne  followed Diefenbaker all the way
    to the warehouse.  She figured if the thugs hadn't made a call 
    yet, and something told her they had, then she'd send Dief to the station. 
    She hated to send the  wolf running through the city, but it was
    her only choice.  Her fingers and toes were numb by  then,
    but all thoughts of her well being disappeared when she looked in and
    saw Fraser, held  hostage by the thugs inside. "Omigod."  Diefenbaker
    pawed the door, telling her to go inside.  "Ssh."  She opened
    the door, silently, and hid behind a row of boxes. "Watch the door." 
    She told  Dief, and he planted himself just outside, watching for
    friend or foe on the horizon. She knew  they'd placed the call,
    when the hell would the police get there? 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Yeah?"  Ray said when his phone rang.
    
    "We got the mountie."
    
    "What?!"
    
    "We got him, and the girl-"
    
    "What girl?"
    
    "The girl wanted by the FBI, she's quite attached to him, seems to pop
    up when he's around, so  sooner or later, she'll be ours too."
    
    Ray tapped the desk for a trace.  "What do you want?"
    
    "Cash.  For big red, mmm, $10 Gs, for the girlie girl, well, when
    the time comes."  The voice on  the line gave the address and
    went dead 2 seconds before the trace. 
    
    "Dammit,"  Welsh said.
    
    "Let's go,"  Ray said snagging his ratty leather coat off the tree.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    Lou slipped on the brass knuckles and kissed each one. "Well, mountie,
    you have lots of will  power."  He punched him hard in the
    stomach and Fraser doubled over.  The men on his arms  lifted
    him back up. "I respect and admire that." Lou punched him again. Fraser
    was again pulled  up so he was open to another blow. "Usually." 
    Another blow to the gut that jarred a rib and  knocked the breath
    from him.  He could no longer hold his head up and he let it drop.
    "But in this  case-" another blow to the stomach, and someone lifted
    his head up, "it's pissing me off."  Lou  knocked Fraser in
    the left eye. They waited for Fraser to get his breath back, but he still
    answered  no questions. At last the blue and red flashing lights
    appeared outside but without sirens  accompanying them.
    
    "Get the water."  Lou looked at the bowed head of the mountie he'd
    been working on for almost  a half hour now.  It never took
    this long, and he was getting annoyed.  The one named Garret 
    hauled the fire bucket filled with ice cold water from the nearly frozen
    pipes over to Lou.  He  dipped his hand in and flicked a little
    on the mountie.  "You look cold."  Fraser was trying his best 
    to keep his teeth from chattering, especially since any movement of his
    jaw sent waves of pain  through him.  His stomach hurt from
    taking punches, he was sure a rib on his right side was either 
    broken or badly bruised. Breathing hurt and his nose oozed blood. 
    Fraser lifted his head.  Corinne  saw the black eye forming
    on his left side, the skin swelling to obscure the gray orbs usually
    so  animated, now so dull.  He hadn't seen her.  "Quite
    cold.  Tell us, you get a blanket,"  one of  them held
    up a fleece blanket, "and you get to go home." 
    
    Fraser dropped his head again, still held up by the arms only. 
    His toes and fingers had gone from  numb to a burning, and now his
    entire hands and feet were being invaded by the same sensation.  
    Fraser shook his head slowly. "No."
    
    Corinne couldn't take much more of this, and she didn't want Fraser to
    have to either. Lou  hoisted the bucket. "Whoa," one of the men
    holding Fraser's arms said. "I don't wanna' get wet,  I'm cold already."
    
    "Set him down, then."  Garret took a steel chair from against the
    far wall and set it down.  They  dropped Fraser into it and
    Lou lifted the bucket.  "Last chance."  Fraser didn't move. 
    He lifted  the bucket and dumped the cold water on his head and
    watched it drip from the mountie's  clothing and his nose. Fraser's
    whole body quaked because of the exposure.  Lou lifted Fraser's 
    chin.  "We could just let that freeze on ya', or you could start
    talking.  Or do you like this, being  from the Yukon Territories
    and all."
    
    "It's just the Yukon, or the Territories.  Not both," he mumbled.
    
    "Did he just correct me?"  Lou quickly asked his partners. "Did
    you just correct me?!" he  demanded. "Don't correct me! Nobody corrects
    me."  He unholstered his .45, holding it by the  barrel. "You
    don't correct me!" He yelled, simultaneously pistol whipping Fraser hard
    enough to  knock him out of the chair. Without the ability to catch
    himself with his hands, he fell hard on his  right shoulder, his
    head bouncing on the concrete soon after.
    
    This was the first glimpse Corinne got of the knot tying Fraser's hands.
    If it was a standard knot  of some sort, she might be able to undo
    it from there.  For once she prayed for rhyme and reason.  
    It wasn't a knot she'd seen before; not a slip knot, figure eight knot,
    anchor's knot, surgeon's  knot, reef, harness or bowline knot, nothing
    like that.  It was a mass of random ties, many the  simple
    knot used to tie your shoes done over and over until it was tight and
    secure.  Fraser lifted  his head from the puddle on the floor
    as the police tried communicating for the first time since  they'd
    arrived.  "We are ready to negotiate," the bull horn blasted into
    the warehouse. 
    
    "Call the cell phone of that Vecchio guy.  Hey mountie, what's the
    number?"  Fraser was lifted  back into the chair.  "Tell
    me!"
    
    "555-2656."  He could feel the heat of blood oozing from the spot
    where the metal of the gun had  bitten into his skin on top of his
    cheekbone.  Garret dialed and walked away to the far wall. 
    Fraser's eyes began to loose focus, but Lou knelt directly in front of
    him. 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Confirmed, he's in there."  Marion, a uniformed officer said. 
    She'd been listening in on the  conversation inside for a few minutes
    while Ray stood bye and asked her about every thing they  said..
    
    "Good,"  Ray said, "so we bust in and get him outta there."
    
    "They might put a bullet in him, we don't keep our cool,"  Welsh
    said. 
    
    "He's already got a bullet in him," Lewis told Ray ,"he doesn't need
    another," he added. 
    
    "So, where's the 'little girl,' hunh?  She stopped by my apartment,
    she couldn't've gotten too  far."
    
    "Wait," Agent White said from behind them, "she came to your apartment
    and you didn't detain  her?"
    
    "I was kinda' worried and preoccupied when she told me Fraser was at
    the hands of some goons.   Silly me."
    
    "Granted, but you should have detained her,"  Agent Lewis added.
    
    "Know what?  I don't see how this Fraser thing is you guys' business."
    
    "Everything's our business,"  Agent White said.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
     "Still cold?  Ready to talk?"  Fraser closed his eyes.
    
    "I c-can't tell you.  I'll keep saying t-that until you listen. 
    I can't t-tell you," his words broken by  his shivering.
    
    "You are trying my patience!"  Lou raised his hand to strike him
    again. 
    
    Corinne jumped out of the shadows, "Woah!" She held out her hands and
    Lou found his hand  stuck in the back swung position. "Slow down,
    there, Lou."
    
    "Oh, no,"  Fraser mumbled.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Oh, shit!"  Marion yelled.  "She's in there!  The little,
    I mean Corinne Blair is in there!" 
    
    "She's what?!"  The agents asked in unison.
    
    "How'd she manage that?"  Welsh asked.
    
    "Beats me, but they found the wolf at the back door.  Door's ajar."
    
    "Now Fraser's expendable,"  Welsh said.
    
    "I'm going in there,"  Ray said, "and I'm going in shooting." 
    
    "This ain't no gal durn western, Ray."  Lewis said. "You can't go
    shoot up the place. Use tact."   Ray's cell phone rang again.
    
    "We have her.  We want $10.5 mill by day break for the little chicken. 
    Big red could be coming  out in a pine box we don't get that $10
    Gs up front."  The phone went dead.  Ray rubbed his  forehead.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "What the-,"  Lou said, looking up at his frozen appendage, then
    to the shaking girl half shrouded  in shadow.  "It's you." 
    He smiled.  "This'll be easier than I thought." 
    
    "Don't count on it," Corinne said softly.  "Ever seen _Carrie_?"
    
    "Sure."
    
    "Wanna' see it in 3-D?  Try me." Corinne stepped out into the light.
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "What's happening?"  Welsh asked.
    
    "Hold on."  Marion said.  Just as she was getting up to the
    window, the lights went out and she  could see nothing, except for
    momentary flashes of power surges in the ceiling wires. 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "Stand up."  She whispered to Fraser.  The lights blinked out,
    but Corinne had memorized all of  their positions. Fraser managed
    to struggle out of the chair, with the help of Corinne.  He bore
    a  majority of his weight on her since he couldn't stand up straight
    because of his bruised stomach.  The three standing near the car,
    she pinned there, holding them fast with all the strength she could 
    while dealing with the other two.  They struggled, frightened by
    the mysterious force that seemed  to want to suffocate them. 
    The one near the far wall she had three rows of boxes fall on, not 
    crush him, but trap him there for the police to sort out.  Lou growled
    and started to run at them,  or their general direction, in the
    darkness.  Fraser tripped him up with a well placed boot, and Lou 
    landed hard in the pooled water on the concrete.  Corinne had the
    thick electrical wires from the  ceiling fall into the puddle, electrocuting
    Lou on the spot.  Not dead, barely alive, but savable. She 
    spoke to the three held against the car.
    
    "You three, get in the car."  They obeyed, quickly.  The high
    powered magnet on the ceiling  flicked on and lifted them into the
    air where they would be safely held until the police could come 
    in and get them down.  The lights flicked back on.  Fraser
    groaned and Corinne led him away  from the sizzling water and lay
    him down on the concrete.  The pain on his face brought tears to 
    her eyes.  She sniffed. "Good thing you had on your rubber soled
    boots, hunh?"  She grasped his  hand.
    
    Fraser tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Guess so."  
    
    "Jesus," she said touching the skin next to where the gun had sliced
    nearly to the bone.  "What  hurts?"
    
    "Everything." 
    
    The police exploded in through the front doors.  Two paramedics
    accompanied the uniforms.   One went to Lou and one came to
    Fraser.  He shinned a pen light into Fraser's eyes, noted the 
    swelling in his jaws and looked beneath his shirt at the mass of bruises,
    especially the serious one  on the right near Fraser's rib cage. 
    Agents White and Lewis stood behind the paramedic. 
    
    "I'm not leaving till I know he's okay."  Corinne said to them.
    
    "This might hurt."  The paramedic told Fraser. He pressed into the
    flesh and his hand tightened on  Corinne's.  His face registered
    pain, but he tried to keep it hidden as well as possible.  "Nothing's 
    broken."
    
    "Whoa!  Little help!"  the other paramedic said as Lou went
    into convulsions.  The paramedic  pulled Fraser's shirt down
    and ran over there.
    
    "God, Fraser, I'm so sorry," she whispered to him.  Ray walked up
    behind the agents, carrying the  blue fleece blanket. He knelt next
    to them, looking down on his fallen partner and over at the  elusive
    fugitive.  "I've been nothing but trouble for you," she whispered.
    "I wish I could make it  right."  She leaned down and kissed
    him gently on the forehead.  Agent White then pulled her up 
    by the arm.  "I'm coming quietly, no need for those."  She
    pointed to the cuffs. 
    
     CHAPITRE CINQ: Tying Up Loose Ends
    
    Corinne sat still in the back seat of the FBI agent's dark blue car
    and waited for Agents White and  Lewis to wrap up with the Chicago
    PD.  The police had all of the men present in custody.  They'd 
    ask Fraser his description of the man in the fedora when he got his head
    clear and his cuts tended  to.  Lou had wailed off in an ambulance
    already, the others were in two different squad cars. 
    
    When Agents White and Lewis came and started the car, she looked out
    the window at Fraser and  waved once  and mouthed _good-bye_
    as the car lurched into motion.  Ray looked past Fraser, out 
    the passenger side window to see the car disappearing into the falling
    snow.  "She's going back to  some institute where people test
    and watch her all day?  That doesn't seem right,"  Ray said
    to  him.  After a moment of silence, he then added, "Justice
    and fairness usually come together, in  one pop."  Ray shifted
    and frowned out through the windshield at the snow falling onto the hood.  
    "But this... which one wins this time?  Justice, or fairness?" 
    
    "Maybe neither."  Ray started the car and pulled off as Fraser pulled
    the blanket tighter around  himself. 
    
    "No hospital, as always, I'd imagine.  We get you back to the station,
    I'm sure Francesca will be  quite happy to palpate that for you."
    He pointed to Fraser's midsection. 
    
    "You know, Ray, they say everyone has soul mates out there for them. 
    People that make  profound positive influences on one's life. 
    Could be a spouse, or a lover, or a friend, or even a  complete
    stranger."  Ray glanced over at his partner a moment, then back
    out through the  windshield.  "You just ran a stop sign, Ray."
    
    "What?  No I didn't.  What stop sign?"  Ray laughed. 
    
    "You know very well what stop sign.  Look, you just did it again."
    Ray was happy that Fraser  was lucid enough, despite his concussion,
    to talk to him. He could still only open his mouth so  wide, so
    he spoke softly.
    
    "Nope.  If I didn't see it, it didn't happen." He, too was happy
    that he had Ray to talk to, to fill  the void, and hoped that Corinne
    would find someone that could do the same for her. 
    
    "Oh, _really_ , Ray,"  Fraser said exasperatedly. "And you're
    exceeding the speed limit." Ray looked  over at him and couldn't
    help but laugh, then speed up.
    
    --END--
    Send me some feedback, thank you, kindly.


End file.
